


Take that Away and What are You?

by Kizmet



Series: Prelude: Putting the Dys in Functional [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Tony Stark, Gen, Kidnapping, Not Steve Friendly, Tony Stark Does What He Wants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 00:46:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14508813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kizmet/pseuds/Kizmet
Summary: “Big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?”  But no one ever asks what Steve is if the serum is rendered irrelevant… Maybe they should have.Or Tony and Steve get kidnapped.  Since Tony’s wearing a tux, Steve figures it’s all up to him to get them out of this mess.  Steve never really thought much about the conditions under which Tony built the Mach I.





	Take that Away and What are You?

**Author's Note:**

> So I watched “Heroes United: Captain America/Iron Man”, and it’s a much better version of Steve Rogers than the MCU, with an emphasis on him having trained in a number of different martial arts and being someone who makes plans not just a Determinator (http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/Determinator) who hits all his problems until they stop getting back up… But still we get Steve telling Tony that the armor is a crutch and he needs to stop depending on it. 
> 
> It is much easier to separate Tony from the armor than to take the serum from Steve. So if the context is concern for Tony, and arguably that is the case in “Heroes United”, it’s got some justification but it always seems to come with the implication that Tony in armor which he personally designed and built is more dependent on external aid than Steve with his powers derived from getting shot up with magic steroids. That somehow the armor is cheating and the serum is not.
> 
> And Marvel has so many different versions of that line, it’s not even used appropriately here. Steve’s storyline is Tony says his plans make him too predictable, for example he always catches his shield after throwing it. At multiple points during the story people do indeed get hits on Steve by using the moment that he catches his shield. And the climatic fight hinges on Steve NOT catching the shield. Now I could quibble and say that catching the shield is less a plan than it’s a habit but it’s a fairly straightforward narrative: Problem is called out. Problem is illustrated. Problem is resolved. 
> 
> On Tony’s side Steve says that Tony is too improvisational / the armor is a crutch. Depending on the armor is not being improvisational, and that’s not a quibble because it’s the complete opposite of improvisational. Tony’s plan, at its most basic, is not get into battles outside of his armor. During story the closest he comes to being out of the armor is opening the face plate, he never even takes off the helmet. That plan seems to be working for him. In designing the armor, Tony anticipates what scenarios he might find himself in, that’s a whole lot of planning. For example Steve comes up with a plan where Tony’s armor being highly noticeable is an issue, and what do you know, Tony had developed and integrated stealth tech into the armor before the story ever began because he’d considered and PLANNED for the possibility of requiring stealth. Since Tony’s never out of the armor, him being caught without it isn’t part of the story, which leaves the armor failing at a critical moment as a way of demonstrating the dangers of Tony relying on the armor. The armor does fail but never so catastrophically that Tony’d be better off as an unEnhanced human with combat abilities on par with a nameless SHIELD agent than he is relying on the partially disabled armor. Might as well say Daredevil is relying on his Martial Arts too much, I mean what if his enemy manages to injure him? So on Tony’s side two contradictory problems are called out and the third problem is illustrated and resolved. 
> 
> It would have been a much cleaner if Steve’s complaint had been that Tony tries to do everything solo Instead of being a team player. That’s the Tony-issue that the story actually addressed but no! Marvel just had to take a dig at Tony relying on the product of his intelligence. This leaves “the armor is a crutch” with a similar feel to Natasha’s ‘ego’ crack: It’s just one of Marvel’s go-to issues with Tony and they don’t really care if the situation matches the accusation.

Steve woke-up with a groggy, hungover feeling that he knew meant that he’d been drugged. The last thing he remembered was getting ready for bed. A quick check found him still in his long johns, so he probably hadn’t lost any time, they’d- whoever They were- had most likely taken him from his bed.

The surface he was lying on had a little give to it, the material was smooth and slightly tacky against his cheek. _‘One of those plastics that the modern world is so in love with,’_ Steve concluded distastefully. Hearing nothing suspicious or informative he gave up any pretense of continued unconsciousness and opened his eyes. The cell was futuristic, even by Twenty-First Century standards: A raised platform surrounded by four walls formed from glimmering gold force fields that stretched up to the ceiling.

There was a second cot on the other side of the cell and Steve grimaced as he recognized Tony Stark. He hadn’t seen the other Avenger since the Battle of Manhattan and while Iron Man had proven himself an asset there… Well, that was in the suit and it was Tony Stark in a tux minus the jacket and bow tie lying on the other side of the cell, not Iron Man. From what Steve had heard from Natasha, Stark had blown up all his suits after the thing with the Mandarin several months back. _‘I’d almost rather be saddled with a normal civilian,’_ Steve sighed to himself. _‘At least they might do what they’re told.’_

Stark groaned as he began to come to.

“Stark!” Steve hissed.

The billionaire rolled on his side and eyed Steve for a moment. “Well, looks like a good party’s been eliminated as a possibility. You mind writing a note for Pepper and my therapist saying it wasn’t my fault I got involved, Capcicle? And for the love of science, what are you wearing?"

Steve grimaced at the nickname, at the uncalled for mockery in the other man’s tone. “I don’t know that this isn’t on you. What do you remember about the people who took us? I was asleep in my apartment.” Steve gestured defensively to his long johns. _‘Haven’t been able to sleep in the cold without nightmares since coming out of the ice.’_

“The last thing I remember was getting cornered by a blowhard politician who still hasn’t gotten over my ‘betrayal of my father’s legacy of dedication to our armed forces’. Odds are I was asleep too,” Stark said.

Steve didn’t even know where to start with that. Stark’s obvious disdain for his father’s accomplishments, including the support Howard had given the Howlies during the war grated. At the same time, with what he’d seen of modern warfare, with its weapons that sought to replace soldiers, Steve couldn’t disapprove of Stark’s decisions to get out of the business. And then there was the simple disrespectfulness of Stark apparently falling asleep while some senator or congressman had been speaking to him. _‘Can’t open his mouth without some sort of irrelevant obnoxiousness coming out. If there’s one person who exemplifies everything wrong with this time…’_

“So, we know nothing about the people who took us-“

“‘People’ isn’t my first thought here,” Stark interrupted glancing around their cell and what was visible of the room beyond the fields.

“I still think our best hope is immediate escaped,” Steve continued, giving him a quelling look. “Without your armor you won’t be able to provide any support. Stark, if I’m going to get us out of this I have to be able to count on you to do exactly what I say, when I say.”

“Sir! Yes sir! What are your orders, Sir?” Stark snapped a textbook perfect salute marred only by the roll of his eyes.

“Just… Stay quiet and out of the way while I get us out of this cell,” Steve sighed. He stood and ripped his cot apart with a grunt of effort. A long piece of the frame made a crude but serviceable spear.

“The corners, where the fields come together are a likely weak point,” Stark said.

Steve grimaced. He didn’t doubt that Stark knew more about things like that than he did but the geometry of the corners would restrict the amount of force he could bring to bear. Steve lunged at the cell wall, driving the spear into the center of it, putting all his strength and weight behind the blow. The field crackled ominously and a jolt of electricity knocked Steve on his ass. For several moments he just sat there blinking and rubbing his the feeling back into his hands.

“The cot tarp’s some sort of polymeric material,” Stark remarked as he picked through the remnants of Steve’s cot. He wrapped one of the larger pieces of the bedding around his hand then gingerly tapped the force field. “Yep, it’s an insulator,” he said.

“What if you’d been wrong?” Steve snapped. “As strong as the jolt that hit me was it might have stopped your heart.”

“Aww, I didn’t know you cared,” Stark crooned.

“You are a civilian under my protection,” Steve replied coldly. “I’m obligated to do my best to keep you alive but if you’re going to be taking foolish chances...”

“Right, that’s my prerogative,” Stark huffed. “Wrap the damned polymer around the metal like a haft. Make sure it’s the only part of the frame that you’re touching.”

“Don’t do it again,” Steve ordered as he accepted the strip of tarp. _‘What’s done is done. Ignoring what he learned would be insane.’_

With the tarp dissipating the charge Steve was able to batter the force field without suffering any ill-effects, unfortunately the force-field didn’t show any signs of weakening under his assault. Steve was dripping with sweat, panting from exertion and dead certain that their captors, whoever and wherever they were, were observing and LAUGHING at him, when he finally allowed himself a breather.

Once the crackle of the energy field repelling his attacks died down and his breathing quieted, Steve’s attention was drawn by a soft steady rasp. He turned and saw Stark sitting on the floor scraping one of the smaller fragments of bed frame against the surface of the floor, putting an edge on it. There were a half dozen other bits of frame, of a variety of dimensions lined up around the engineer. All grips neatly wrapped in strips of the cot’s tarp. Steve did a double-take, surprised that Stark had been so productive. _‘I knew he made weapons and Howard was always useful to have as support,’_ Steve reminded himself. _‘I guess I just didn’t expect Stark to adapt so quickly to NOT having his fancy tower and all his gadgets.’_

After a short rest Steve went back to his single minded assault on the force field. He couldn’t just give up, not when he didn’t have any better ideas. During his next break Steve noticed that Stark had ripped off one of his shirt sleeves, torn it into strips and wrapped it around his forearm as a bandage. He was tinkering with a small electronic device.

“Where did that come from?” Steve demanded.

Stark nodded toward his bandaged arm. “After Loki’s little defenestration stunt I decided against remote summons for my armor that come off. Implanted them under my skin.”

Steve stared at the engineer with revulsion.

“It’s only about four times as large as a standard RFID chip and people are implanting them so they don’t have to carry wallets,” Stark justified. “And much more useful.” With that he turned his attention back to the device, using two of the smallest of his improvised tools to make adjustments.

Steve reached for his spear a third time after he’d caught his breath.

“How about I take a shot at it?” Stark asked. He walked over to the nearest corner of the cell without bothering to wait for Steve’s response then inserted the chip into two pieces of bed frame that had been fitted together like a rough set of pliers. Gently Stark opened the jaws of the tool until they simultaneously contacted both walls. Something arched across the tool, bouncing from one wall to the other until both were fluctuating wildly, a loud whine built up, Steve pressed his hands over his ears, gritting his teeth, then the force-fields vanished along with the noise. “Shall we go, mon capitaine?” Steve picked up his spear while Tony slipped his makeshift tools into his belt, keeping a crude knife in hand.

Steve’s belief that their captors had been watching, and laughing, at his efforts to breach the force fields were confirmed when a dozen guards showed up before they even reached the door. “I’ll take care of them,” he said stepping in front of Tony and raising his spear. Steve used it to swipe at the legs of the first two guards, hoping to put them both on the ground.

In his experience grunts like these were easily dealt with but first of the pair jumped, landing on the spear and knocking it out of Steve’s hands instead of being felled. More wary but filled with stern determination Steve raised his fists.

He quickly discovered that the strength granted to him by Erskine’s formula only put him on par with these guards. The Red Skull, Loki, it wasn’t as if Steve hadn’t faced tough opponents since receiving the Serum but it seemed wrong to be having such difficulties with flunkies. _'Still closer to a fair fight than all those back alley brawls in Brooklyn,'_ Steve told himself. _'I can do this.'_

Stark was shouting something but Steve was too busy adjusting to fighting a group of soldiers who could match his strength to listen. Still it wasn’t long before Steve established a new rhythm and was holding his own. Suddenly force fields sprang up all over the room blocking all but one of the guards away from them. Steve ducked under the last guard’s lung and got in a shot to the chin, cold cocking him. “This would have been a lot easier if you’d backed off when I told you to,” Stark complained as he scowled at the control panel. “Now let’s see, how do I clear a path to the door without setting any of these guys loose.”

“Just do it,” Steve replied as he set himself for another battle. “I’ll deal with them.”

“As if I’m going to be stumped by a little logic puzzle,” Stark scoffed.

“This is taking too much time. They’ve got to be sending reinforcements,” Steve pointed out.

“And punching them repeatedly is instantaneous?” Stark shot back. “Keep your pants on… And there.” A sharp buzzing sound punctuated his announcement as a torturously twisted path was opened by dropping very specific force-fields.

Steve reclaimed his spear and led the way out of the room.

“Thank you? Good job?” Stark called after him.

“Keep up,” Steve replied.

They made it out of the room where they’d woken up and out into a series of slightly curving halls. “Fuck, oh fuck. We’re on a ship.” Stark muttered, a harsh edge of fear in his voice.

Steve gave him a disapproving look. “I can’t hear any sort of engine noises,” he tried to be reassuring. _‘The last thing I need is Stark panicking.’_

“Just because you can hear the best engines we’ve got on Earth doesn’t mean squat,” Stark snapped. “The minions we’ve met so far have all been happy to engage you in fisticuff but these people are definitely not tech savages.”

They turned a corner and Steve shoved Stark against the wall then peered back around to double check what they’d seen. “Now that is reassuring,” Stark whispered. “You don’t put guards on an airlock if there’s no atmosphere on the other side.”

“There’s only four of them,” Steve said.

“So what? You’re going to run out there and start punching?” Stark asked sarcastically. “You have noticed that I don’t have the suit and the serum isn’t enough to neutralize their numbers?”

“That’s no reason to lie down and give up,” Steve said frowning.

“Who said give up? Look, by third grade I was years younger and significantly smaller than everyone else. Direct confrontation does not end well under these circumstances,” Stark broke off, giving Steve an odd look. “But you have to know that- Better than anyone. What’d you do? Just get beat up until they gave you the serum?”

“Once you start running from bullies you’ll never quit,” Steve proclaimed. He tried to ignore the heat in his cheeks.

For a moment Steve witnessed the near unprecedented event of seeing Tony Stark rendered speechless. “Sweet science, that’s exactly what you did. Tactical genius my award-winning ass.” he muttered. “That’s it, I’m taking over this escape. I mean, Rogers, I like a dick measuring contest as much as the next guy but your pride isn’t worth my life.”

Steve scowled but Stark kept talking too quickly for him to get a word edgewise. “These people have tech, there’s either an engine room or an armory somewhere around here and we’re going to find it. I’m going to MacGyver it into something that goes bang in a big way… Because I am damned good at that. Once we have enough firepower at our disposal we leave- With a little luck, leave a smoking crater in our wake. Nothing discourages kidnappers more than having to walk over the corpses of the last asshole who tried it.” Almost before he stopped talking Stark turned to walk away.

Steve took two quick steps and caught him by the arm. “You can’t just wander off,” he hissed. “Without your armor-”

As Stark eyed the Super Soldier’s hand wrapped around his arm like a steel band his expression became shuttered, leaving his face as unreadable as the Black Widow at her most inscrutable. “So we’re going with your plan? I stay here and you defeat those four with the power of righteous indignation?”

“You have to trust me Tony,” Steve said earnestly.

“What else can I do? I don’t have my armor after all.”

Steve nodded, “I won’t be long.” He lowered his makeshift spear, rounded the corner and charged the four guards with a shout.

Before they rallied Steve had driven the spear through the first guard’s chest but as that guard fell his weight yanked the spear from his hands. He spun and kicked a second guard as the third grabbed him from behind. While his arms were restrained the last of the guards drove a fist into his gut, knocking the breath from his body. The guard followed up by bringing his joined fists down on the unprotected back of Steve’s skull.

Steve woke up sometime later in a cell identical to the first one, only now there were two guards stationed in the room and Stark was nowhere to be seen. _‘Hope he managed to get away, although I don’t know what he’d be able to do without his armor.’_

Three hours passed.

Without warning a bluish white beam shot from one of the vents taking out first one guard then the other. After a bit of cursing Tony Stark squirmed out of the vent, covered in dust, his tux ripped in several places. “I don’t know how Legolas makes that look easy,” Stark muttered as he pulled a bulky backpack attached by several cables to a thick tube out of the vent after him. “His shoulders are at least a hands’ breadth wider than mine."  He tapped a few buttons on the control console and deactivated the force fields imprisoning Steve.

“The only armory I found was full of swords,” Stark announced his nose wrinkling with distaste. “But I rigged the ship’s engines to blow in... Um, eight minutes now. So you might want to get a move on it.”

“What!” Steve exclaimed as he jumped to his feet. “What if we’re in the middle of a civilian population?”

“We’re a couple hundred miles out of Reno, the middle of nowhere,” Stark replied as pulled on the backpack and jogged toward the door. “J.A.R.V.I.S. has a quinjet on the way for pickup and he’s alerted the spy twins. So S.H.I.E.L.D.’s scrambling but I didn’t feel like giving these fuckers the chance to get away.”

With no other choice, Steve followed after Stark. Several minutes later they made it back to airlock where Steve had been recaptured. There were eight guards armed with swords stationed there now but Stark twisted several knobs on his backpack. The thing whined in a way that had Steve edging away from the engineer. But the resultant blast, when he pulled the trigger, filled the whole corridor. It smashed all the guards into the walls with the force of a tidal wave.

“See if any of them are still breathing,” Stark commented distractedly as he walked through the fallen guards peered at the airlock controls. “S.H.I.E.L.D. would probably appreciate someone to interrogate. I don’t think the explosion will be enough to vaporize the ship… But you never know.”

Steve punched a guard who was starting to stir then slung the unconscious body over his shoulder as the airlock irised open. Once they were outside, under a vast star-filled sky, Stark took a moment to shut the portal behind him. They were a maybe a hundred feet from the alien ship when it blew. The hull absorbed most of the explosion, reducing it to a dull crunching sound and a few gouts of flame escaping from weak points.

Steve dropped his captive and turned to stare at Stark. “How did you-”

Stark rolled his eyes, “Yeah I’m aware, whatever footage S.H.I.E.L.D. showed you, you got the memo: Iron Man - Yes, Tony Stark - Not recommended. But do you have the slightest clue where my armor came from? What the conditions were?”

“They said after you escaped from the Ten Rings-”

“That was Mark II,” Stark corrected flatly. “I was kidnapped, held captive in a fucking cave and ordered to build missiles for people I’d rather die than provide with arms. There was... another prisoner. He gave me the kick I needed to decide that it wasn’t good enough for me to just refuse and die. So I lied. I told them I’d make them their goddamn missile- Oh if only they’d lay off with the torture.” He gave Steve a twisted smirk. “I let the ‘ _bullies_ ’, to use your terminology, think I’d given in while right under their noses I designed and built the Mark I… Which I used to escape while taking out all of MY weapons that they’d stolen in the process and, incidentally, killing a shitload of my former captors.”

Steve gaped as he pictured what Stark was describing.

“You asked me what I was without the armor? Fucking ask me what the armor is without ME!” Stark tapped the side of his head. “Without me it doesn’t exist. Take it away and I’ll build it again.” He nodded toward his makeshift repulsor cannon. “Or I’ll build something else. Maybe you can take the armor, or my money, away from me but ‘genius’ isn’t an empty claim and THAT you can’t take from me.”

Stark smirked at Steve, “Next time? Instead of telling me how useless I am without the armor… Ask yourself what use are YOU if the problem isn’t one you can punch your way out of.”

**Author's Note:**

> I could have been meaner. I thought about setting up Tony doesn’t have the armor vs Steve doesn’t have the serum but… a healthy, physically fit genius versus a small, chronically ill individual who STILL considered direct physical confrontation to be the best and only way of resolving conflict? What’s the point? There is a reason why the MCU never asks what is Steve without the serum: The answer is nothing. He’s not clever or tactical enough to make a difference with being able to beat up anyone who doesn’t agree with him. 
> 
> I’d almost bet that there are comic stories where Steve is suddenly without the serum and through tactics, skills AND determination still manages to triumph… But the character the MCU gives us couldn’t figure out how to successfully deal with one loudmouth without Erskine’s serum. Sigh.


End file.
